


I need you so much closer

by runphoebe, saudades



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Consent Play, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent Fantasy, Established Relationship, Just the Tip, M/M, Negotiated kink, Off-Screen Kink Negotiation, Praise Kink, Pretend First Time Bottoming, Referenced Virginity, Roleplay, Roleplayed Age Difference, Size Kink, Unsafe Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6794872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runphoebe/pseuds/runphoebe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/saudades/pseuds/saudades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s raining outside. Patrick can hear the patter of it against the floor-to-ceiling windows lining Jonny’s bedroom when he closes his eyes, muted slightly by the pulse of blood through his ears and the repetitive shush of Jonny’s ceiling fan. He swallows, throat contracting loudly in the relative stillness of the room. Fuck, he has no idea how he ended up here, naked, leaning back on the mountain of pillows against Jonny’s headboard, nervous sweat drying tacky on his bare skin under the fan’s lazy rotations. </i>
</p><p> </p><p><i>Jonny had invited him over for Xbox and beer, which was still weird as fuck to Patrick, to hang out at Jonny’s condo like they were buddies or something and Jonny wasn’t a guy that Patrick had been watching,</i> idolizing, <i>since he was a kid, pretty much.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I need you so much closer

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** A large portion of this fic reads like dub-con sex between a rookie player (Patrick) and an experienced veteran (Jonny). However, Patrick and Jonny are in an established relationship and the dub-con scene is a pre-negotiated roleplay between two consenting parties. BUT I cannot warn enough that the kink negotiation occurs off-screen and the sex scene reads as _extremely_ dub-conny, with Jonny constantly pushing Patrick past his limits. I will include much more detailed content warnings in the end notes. Please, please read these if you feel at all like this situation is something you'd be uncomfortable with - take care of yourself and only read what makes you happy. 
> 
> If something in this fic hits all your kink buttons in just the right way, you can probably blame [saudades](http://archiveofourown.org/users/saudades/pseuds/saudades) for that.

It’s raining outside. Patrick can hear the patter of it against the floor-to-ceiling windows lining Jonny’s bedroom when he closes his eyes, muted slightly by the pulse of blood through his ears and the repetitive shush of Jonny’s ceiling fan. He swallows, throat contracting loudly in the relative stillness of the room. Fuck, he has no idea how he ended up here, naked, leaning back on the mountain of pillows against Jonny’s headboard, nervous sweat drying tacky on his bare skin under the fan’s lazy rotations.

Jonny had invited him over for Xbox and beer, which was still weird as fuck to Patrick, to hang out at Jonny’s condo like they were buddies or something and Jonny wasn’t a guy that Patrick had been watching, _idolizing_ , since he was a kid, pretty much.

Jonny doesn’t treat him like a kid, though, even though Patrick’s just nineteen and still gets nervous as hell around Jonny sometimes. He’s a good mentor for Patrick, so calm and patient with him, but always pushing him just a little bit further than Patrick thinks he can go, and he’s good off the ice too, spending a lot of time with Patrick, helping him get used to Chicago. Patrick gets along with just about everyone on the team, but Jonny’s just been there for him in a big way and he can’t deny that having that steadying presence has been a relief.

So, sure, maybe they’re buddies, even if it’s hard for Patrick to grasp. That still doesn’t explain why he’s naked on Jonny’s bed right now, legs spread for Jonny to kneel between. Jonny still has all his clothes on, though he has the sleeves of his soft sweater pushed up, baring his strong, capable forearms. Patrick is used to admiring Jonny’s body for its utility, but the clench in his stomach at the sight of the thick tendons roping his forearms, the knob of his wrist and the wide splay of his palm, is something else completely.

“Are you cold?” Jonny asks, smoothing his hands up Patrick’s biceps, over the curves of his shoulders. His voice startles Patrick, breaking through the white noise of the rain and the fan and Patrick’s blood rushing through his ears. “You’re shivering.”

Patrick becomes abruptly aware of himself, the hot flush he can feel suffusing from his throat down to his chest, and the little tremors spasming through him, mimicking a shiver even though he feels so overheated his skin must be on fire. He doesn’t know how to tell Jonny that it’s from nerves, because Jonny’s probably got tons of experience and Patrick’s never done anything like this before.

He doesn’t want Jonny to be disappointed with him, but he’s so out of his depth here, it’s crazy.

“N - no,” Patrick finally says, remembering that Jonny asked him a question. His voice cracks. “I’m-,”

Jonny cups his hand over Patrick’s throat, thumbing his pulse point. Shit, he must be able to feel the erratic pace of Patrick’s heartbeat; no way will Patrick be able to hide his apprehension now. A little smile tugs at the corners of Jonny’s mouth, but it’s pleased rather than cruel or mocking and that’s the only thing that keeps Patrick from ducking his head in shame. “Your heart is racing, Patrick,” he says. “What are you so nervous about?”

Patrick almost wants to laugh at that question. Jonny’s acting like this is totally fucking normal. Like he gets teammates spread out naked in his bed all the time, like there’s nothing weird about that at all. Well, maybe there’s not for Jonny. But Patrick’s hardly ever done anything with another guy before, just traded a few drunken, fumbling handjobs a couple of times, and he doubts that’s what Jonny’s angling for here. That it would be enough to keep Jonny satisfied.

“I’ve -,” Patrick starts again, unsure how honest he should be with Jonny. But he and Jonny have gotten close over the past few months. Jonny told Patrick he could trust him with anything, he could come to him with anything, that Patrick never had to lie to him. He knows Jonny well enough to know that Jonny won’t laugh at him. “I’ve never…”

He trails off when Jonny ducks to run the tip of his nose up the tendon in the side of Patrick’s neck, stopping just under Patrick’s ear, taking the tender skin into his mouth and sucking until Patrick lets out a helpless whine. Jonny smiles again. “Are you a virgin, Patrick?” he asks curiously, something in his voice that Patrick can’t read.

Patrick blushes furiously, the barest hint of defiance revealing itself when he turns his chin up and says, “I’ve done stuff before,” all sullen and bratty. He feels like an idiot though, because Jonny’s definitely going to know that ‘stuff’ doesn’t mean much. People who’ve done a lot before, like Jonny probably has, don’t say ‘stuff’ when they’re talking about sex.

Jonny uses the hinge of Patrick’s jaw to angle his head back down, forcing Patrick to look him in the eye. “Lemme finger you,” he says, and fuck. _Fuck._ Patrick should’ve known Jonny wouldn’t do anything by halves, and it’s not like he wasn’t expecting it, but it’s still a lot to hear it actually coming from Jonny’s mouth. That that’s what Jonny wants from him.

“I don’t know…” Patrick says, shifting on Jonny’s cottony comforter. He’s uncomfortably aware of the hardness of his cock, not all the way there but starting to chub up against his thigh.

The thing is, Patrick’s never even fingered himself before, and Jonny’s fingers are _big_. Patrick doesn’t have any idea how they’ll fit, even as his ass contracts hard around nothing at the thought of it, like it wants something inside.

Jonny runs one hand up Patrick’s inner thigh from his knee to the crease of it, pressing teasingly against his taint before he drops it to brush two fingertips against Patrick’s hole. Patrick’s not in a great position for it, but his legs are spread, and Jonny buries those fingers between his cheeks, just stroking over it with the lightest of pressure. “Has anyone ever touched you here, Peeks?”

Patrick shudders, trying to pull away from the contact on instinct and trying to push back into it because it’s Jonny and it feels weird and like way too much and it has his whole body lit up from the inside out. He’s embarrassed by the noise he makes when Jonny pulls his fingers away, but he’s not sure if it’s relief or dismay.

“Answer me, baby,” Jonny says, leaning over Patrick to grab something from the nightstand. Patrick hears the soft click of a cap, then Jonny comes back into view with a bottle of KY that he’s spreading on two of his gigantic fingers. “Is your pretty little hole going to be all mine?”

It’s so crude, and Patrick’s never even thought about that part of himself like that before. “ _Yes_ ,” he finally says, nearly a whisper as he turns his face up toward the ceiling in humiliation, eyes closed. “ _Jonny_. I don’t know if I can…”

“C’mon, let me do this for you,” Jonny says, scooting up the bed a little until he’s kneeling right in between Patrick’s sprawled legs, knees nearly touching his ass. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Patrick, just trust me. Don’t I always take such good care of you?”

And it’s not like Patrick can say no to that. Jonny is always so good to him. “Y - yeah,” he says, not really sure what he’s agreeing to.

“Good boy,” Jonny murmurs, voice full of praise. Patrick loves when Jonny speaks to him like that most of the time, but he only gets a moment to enjoy it before Jonny’s big hands are gripped tight around his hips and he’s hauling Patrick’s ass up into his lap, letting his legs fall to either side. His jeans rub roughly against the sensitive underside of Patrick’s thighs.

Patrick’s head is still mostly propped against the headboard with all of Jonny’s pillows, but he wishes he could just sink way back into the mattress, hide his face from the open sprawl of his legs, from the way his thighs are pushed up and out, exposing his hole so clearly for Jonny’s view.

Jonny frames it with his thumbs, pushing Patrick’s cheeks out and stretching the furrow of skin until Patrick groans, a mix of shame and anticipation and pleasure. Patrick doesn’t know which is the strongest.

“You’re so pretty right here, Patrick,” Jonny says, matter of fact, like that’s just a normal thing people say to each other. A thing teammates say to their rookies. Oh Jesus. Patrick can see the bulge of Jonny’s cock straining at the zipper of his jeans and that’s just - that’s a lot.

Patrick tosses an arm over his eyes, but that means he jumps in surprise when he feels a blunt fingertip against his hole. Jonny doesn’t take it easy on him, sliding all the way down to the knuckle almost immediately, and Patrick can’t contain it when a raw, dry sob escapes his throat, all the emotion and nerves and humiliation escaping him as his body struggles to accommodate Jonny’s presence.

“Look, Peeks,” Jonny commands softly, working his finger in and out. It drags strangely each time, like Patrick’s body is reluctant to let it go. Patrick’s arm is still over his eyes, but he feels it when Jonny leans forward and lifts it off, forcing Patrick’s chin down so he has to look at the place where Jonny’s big hand is pressed against his body. Even with his ass angled up on Jonny’s lap like this, he can’t see it all that clearly, but the sight of Jonny’s hand pressed so intimately to Patrick’s ass makes him moan and close his eyes again. “C’mon, eyes open, baby. Are you afraid to see how good you take me? Is that it, Pat?”

Patrick grunts in displeasure at that, eyes opening out of sheer stubbornness, pulse pounding at the reminder of just how well Jonny knows him. Knows exactly how to get to him. “Fuck you,” he says weakly, voice cracking and going thready when Jonny presses a second finger in alongside his first.

“Feel how tight you are around me?” Jonny asks, groaning a little as he spreads his fingers inside Patrick, making room for himself. The sensation overwhelms Patrick, and he breaks out in a layer of sweat, tonguing helplessly at his lower lip. “It would have been easy to tell that you’re a virgin, even if you hadn’t told me. Never felt someone as tight as you, Peeks.”

Patrick moans. Almost everything that he does is done in an effort to impress Jonny, to win his approval, but this is so much. It might be too much, Patrick can’t tell. His body spasms around Jonny’s fingers every time he spreads them open, protesting the stretch, and Jonny isn’t easing up at all. He’s about to tell Jonny that he needs - fuck, he needs a minute, or a break, or something when Jonny curls his fingers up towards Patrick’s belly and oh _Jesus Christ_. Jesus  _Christ_.

He clenches around Jonny, trying to keep his fingers in that one spot, trying to hold on to that pleasure that’s lighting him up from way deep inside.

“There you go,” Jonny says, pleased, pulling out and thrusting back in. “I can barely even pull my fingers out, baby, you wanna keep me in you so bad. Your little hole is so fucking greedy for it. You just want to be filled up, don’t you?”

And that’s not - that’s - Patrick just wants Jonny’s fingers on that spot again. Jonny’s other hand stroking his dick until he comes. It wouldn’t take long, Patrick doesn’t think. He’s mortifyingly hard against his stomach, leaking a little puddle of precome on his belly. He can’t hide that he likes this from Jonny anymore.

When he feels Jonny press a third finger against his rim, already pulled tight, he gasps, “ _Wait_ ,” before he can even think about it, trying to pull away from Jonny’s touch. Jonny steadies him with a hand on his hip, thumb stroking gently. “Wait, Jonny, I _can’t_. Three’s too much - I’m not - it won’t fit, Jonny, I _can’t_.”

Jonny fucking laughs at him. Patrick should be furious, because Jonny fucking laughs at him and leans over, still two fingers deep in Patrick’s ass, and kisses Patrick on the mouth, tongue warm and wet, hand cupped over Patrick’s cheek. When he pulls back and resettles, he gives Patrick the fondest look Patrick has ever seen.

“You _can_ , Patrick,” he promises, sliding his third finger inside with no warning, making Patrick whine high and long in his throat around the intrusion. He doesn’t want to disappoint Jonny, but he doesn’t think he body was made for this - made for… “Look how your hole just takes anything I give it, baby. You were made to be filled up, your ass needs to have something inside it. Every time I try to pull my fingers out, your little hole just clings to them, like it doesn’t want to let them go,” Jonny says, pulling out to prove his point.

Patrick tries so hard not to feel it, but he can’t ignore the way his hole clenches around the absence of Jonny, how empty he feels without Jonny’s fingers, how fucking grateful he is when Jonny pushes back in, settling like he belongs there.

“Jonny, it’s so -,” Patrick says, cutting himself off when his voice starts to crack, hoping Jonny will understand him.

“I know, baby, I know,” Jonny murmurs, voice all comfort, even as he crooks all three of his fingers up. Patrick’s dick leaps, spurting a line of precome that rolls onto his belly. “Look at your pretty dick, getting all wet for me, just like a girl, Patrick. I could fuck you with my fingers all day just to watch you leak for me like this.”

Patrick cries out again, feeling something strange and deep and foreign building in his gut every time Jonny hits that place inside him. He doesn’t know if it’s an orgasm, because he’s never felt anything like this before, but it feels like a release of some sort. Surely it has to be - Patrick deserves relief from this, muscles all locked up in anticipation, heart racing, ass clenched down tight around Jonny’s fingers and dick so hard it hurts. “Please, please,” he begs Jonny, unsure what he’s asking for. “I need, Jonny, please.”

“Shh, that’s it, baby,” Jonny quiets him. “Your prostate is so sensitive. I’ve never seen - you can come just on my fingers, can’t you?”

“Shit, shit, I don’t - I’ve never - I don’t know,” Patrick stutters, hiding his damp face in shame. He wants to be able to give this to Jonny, but it suddenly all feels like too much. The fingers in Patrick’s ass, Jonny seeing Patrick all vulnerable and spread out like this, the thought of Jonny making him come. They won’t be able to come back from this, and Jonny’s friendship is important to Patrick. He doesn’t want to lose this relationship. “Jonny, I’m not sure -,” he hiccups, unable to hold back tears any longer.

“Not sure you can come, baby?” Jonny asks, and before Patrick can tearfully correct him, Jonny curls his fingers into Patrick’s prostate again, relentless this time as he says, “I think you can, Peeks.”

And Patrick can’t even form words anymore, body nearly curling up defensively at the onslaught of sensation, the constant pressure of Jonny’s fingertips stroking against his prostate, the cling of his hole as Jonny pulls out and the stretch of it as he pushes back in, the rough fabric of Jonny’s jeans under his thighs.

When Patrick’s legs start to close a little around Jonny’s hips, Jonny says, “Hold your knees up for me, baby,” directing Patrick to put his hands under his knees and pull back. “Want that pretty hole on display, don’t we?”

Patrick whines at how unashamedly into that part of him Jonny is and wonders vaguely if Jonny would ever be into putting his mouth on him there. The thought makes Patrick tense up, squeezing so hard around Jonny’s fingers that Jonny huffs a little in surprise. The tightness amplifies the sensations further and Patrick’s suddenly overwhelmed, overly aware of the rush of his heartbeat, his own breathless whimpers, how he feels like he’s sweating out of his skin.

“Jonny, no, please,” he says, not sure what he wants as he grinds down against Jonny a little. “It’s too much, Jonny, stop, I can’t - you gotta stop, Jonny, please.”

But Jonny’s unceasing, targeting his prostate with every pass of his fingers, working so much precome out of Patrick that it looks like he’s already blown his load once. He ignores Patrick’s words completely and Patrick’s not sure what good stopping would do at this point, so close to the edge that he can feel his balls draw up tight and close to his body, ready to spill onto Patrick’s stomach just from having Jonny’s fingers in his ass.

“You’re okay, Patrick,” Jonny says softly, reassuring. “C’mon, baby, lemme see you come. Show me how good you can be for me.”

That’s it for Patrick. That voice, the same one that Jonny uses on the ice and in the locker room, that Patrick’s never going to be able to hear again without thinking of this moment - that just does it for him. Even though he hasn’t had a single bit of pressure on his dick, he comes harder than he ever has in his life, shooting all the way up his flushed, heaving chest. His ass spasms for ages around Jonny’s fingers, still resting inside Patrick’s body even though he’s so sensitive there now that he moans in discomfort any time Jonny accidentally brushes against his prostate.

Patrick feels completely turned inside out. When Jonny swipes his thumb through the trail of come up Patrick’s chest and brings it to Patrick’s mouth, Patrick opens for him with a groan, sucking on his thumb for longer than he needs to just because it feels a little steadying even if the mingling tastes of his come and Jonny’s sweat-salty skin make his head go dizzy.

When Jonny pulls his thumb out from between Patrick’s pursed lips, he runs it wetly over his chin before settling back. Everything in Patrick’s brain is running too slowly, the overloaded adrenaline rush of his arousal settling hazily over his limbs, but a rush of color floods his face, down his neck, when he realizes he’s still holding his legs up and open for Jonny, hands hooked under the bend of his knee, and that Jonny’s fingers are still inside him. He’s never been this exposed in his life, legs and ass open, cock resting soft and damp against his belly.

Patrick’s so focused on breathing through the humiliation of being on display like this for Jonny that he hardly registers the movement when Jonny’s fingers slip slowly from his grasping hole and he moves him so he’s flat on the mattress, sliding him off the seat of his thighs in exchange for a big, fluffy pillow that keeps Patrick’s ass tilted up at nearly the same angle. He drops his hands, letting his legs splay out to the side.

“No, baby,” Jonny says, so gently coaxing, “Legs up, be good for me,” he tells Patrick, and Patrick wishes that phrase didn’t have so much fucking power over him but it _does_ , and he draws his knees back up, feeling his hole flex as Jonny stares at it.

Patrick hears the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone, metallic in the stillness of Jonny’s bedroom, but it takes a moment for it to permeate what that means, that Jonny’s - fuck, that he’s - Patrick cranes his neck just enough to see Jonny pulling his hard cock out of the open fly of his jeans, stroking it a few times in a loose grip, then tugging the foreskin back to bare the head like he’s showing it off for Patrick.

Patrick’s never seen anything like it in his life. Jonny’s fucking hung, cock big and thick and hard as nails between his legs, impossibly intimidating for Patrick, even as he feels an involuntary rush of saliva fill his mouth at the sight of it. He’d never be able to take Jonny in his mouth - he gets lost imagining how wide he’d have to stretch his lips to fit it inside, how the corners of his mouth might crack, how far he’d have to slide down Patrick’s throat, how Jonny might hold Patrick’s head in his hands and work it further inside, soothing Patrick while he cried.

For the second time that day, the blunt pressure of something against his hole startles Patrick out of his own head, only this time, it’s Jonny’s cock trying to push in. Even though he’s already stretched so wide from Jonny’s fingers, just the suggestion of the flared head of his dick is enough to have Patrick’s eyes widening nervously, heart pounding through his chest.

“N - no, Jonny, what are you -,” Patrick starts, breaking off in a whine that’s all mixed up in fear and arousal and nerves when Jonny uses his hand to rub the head of his big cock over Patrick’s gaping rim, down the smooth skin of his taint. Patrick’s hole clenches reflexively every time Jonny takes the pressure away from it. “Jonny, no, you _can’t_ , please, you - it’s too big, it’s too - please, Jonny, it’s so big, it’s not going to fit.”

Jonny smiles, pleased, skimming his free hand down the inside of Patrick’s thigh. He’s all casual arrogance right now, sweater sleeves still pushed up his forearms, giant cock hanging out of his jeans. When he pushes the head against Patrick’s rim this time, he goes just the slightest bit deeper, and Patrick feels himself contract around that press of cock inside him, unsure if his body’s trying to push Jonny out or draw him in.

“You see that, baby? You feel how badly your little hole wants me inside? It’s trying to swallow my cock up just like your pretty mouth would,” Jonny says, bracing himself over Patrick. Patrick shudders, hands falling away from his legs once more as he lets them be split open by the broad stretch of Jonny’s waist.

He shakes his head, eyes squeezed closed around a hot rush of humiliated tears, wishing Jonny were just a little closer so he could bury his face in his neck and hide. “No, no, Jonny,” he says again, “It’s going to hurt, I can’t -,” his breath hitches and Jonny holds himself up on one arm over Patrick, using his free hand to cup Patrick’s hot cheek, stroking the tender skin just under his eye.

“Just a little bit,” Jonny says, groaning softly when a spasm goes through Patrick, tightening his hole up around Jonny’s cock. “I have to baby, I’ve gotta get just a little bit of it inside you, okay? Look what you did to me, Peeks,” Jonny says, taking Patrick’s hand and guiding it between their bodies, urging it around the exposed width of his cock. Feeling it in his hand makes Patrick moan in terrified anticipation. “Look how hard fingering your pretty little hole made me. Don’t you want to keep making me feel good, Patrick?”

And Patrick can’t - how could he say no to that when Jonny just gave him the best orgasm of his life? Jonny is always so good to Patrick, takes such good care of him, and Patrick doesn’t want to be selfish. “Yeah, I want - wanna make you feel good,” he mumbles, so nervous about disappointing Jonny. What if Patrick’s too tight and it doesn’t fit? “It might not - Jonny, it’s so big, I don’t think it’s going to fit, I don’t think I can.”

“You _can_ , baby, I promise,” Jonny says, threading his fingers through his hair and rubbing soothingly against his scalp. Patrick leans up into the touch. “I told you your hole would take anything I gave it, remember? I’d never give you something you couldn’t handle, you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

Patrick bites his lip, forcing himself to look up at Jonny even though his vision’s swimming behind a flood of tears. The nod he gives Jonny is nearly imperceptible, but Jonny’s looking for it, notices right away, and doesn’t hesitate when he pushes forward into Patrick’s body, forcing the head of his cock into the tight clench of Patrick’s hole.

“Good boy, that’s so good for me, it’s just the tip,” Jonny says when Patrick cries out, words a steadying, soothing counterpoint to the flux of sensations rolling through his body; the impossible stretch of his rim, the slight rush of blood to his cock, the tears rolling down his temples and soaking into his hairline. It’s like he’s on overdrive, the presence of Jonny’s cock too much for his body to process. “God, it feels so tight inside you, Peeks, your hole is so fucking warm, I just wanna stay in you all the time.”

Patrick swallows convulsively around nothing, tongue too thick for his mouth, feeling like Jonny’s laid him open and flayed him raw, nerve endings alight over every surface of his skin. He doesn’t know if what he’s feeling is pleasure, but if it is, he doesn’t know how people can stand feeling it all the time.

“Look how good you’re being for me, baby, I knew you’d be just like this, I knew you could do it,” Jonny says, voice warm with praise and affection that makes Patrick go hot all over, lighting him up from the inside out at the thought of being good for Jonny, pleasing him. “Just - you gotta give me a little bit more, okay? Just take a little more for me, Peeks.”

“No, Jonny, you said -,” Patrick starts, breaking off with a sob when Jonny starts to push in just a little further. Jonny’s so wide that every single centimeter of him amplifies the feeling of being split in half to an overwhelming degree. Patrick’s not sure his body was made for this, not like Jonny seems to think, anyway. “You said just the tip, I can’t do anymore, it’s too big, I can’t, I _can’t_.”

Patrick tries to squirm away from the intensity of the feeling, but he isn’t sure if being so empty after feeling so full would be any better, and Jonny holds him in place anyway, hand firm on his hip as he sinks in another inch.

“Shhh, baby,” Jonny murmurs, quieting him. He moves his hand from Patrick’s hip to his face, brushing curls off his sweaty forehead and thumbing away the fat teardrops that are flowing steadily now, making Patrick feel like even more of a baby even though Jonny doesn’t seem bothered by it. “You’re okay, Peeks, you’re fine, baby. See what a good boy you’re being, taking my cock? You just need to open up for me, just let me in, okay?”

Patrick takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to force his body to relax on the exhale, but his concentration is all tangled up in the humiliating cries being dragged from his throat every time Jonny slides in just a little further. His body seems to be operating separately from his brain, trying to grind down onto Jonny’s cock until the stretch becomes so overwhelming that Patrick’s sure Jonny’s going to tear him in half, then trying to writhe away from it, certain he can’t take anymore.

“Jonny, _please_ ,” Patrick sobs, feeling tethered to himself only where Jonny’s cock sinks into his body, where Jonny’s hand is tight on his waist. “‘S so big, I think it’s too big, I -,” he heaves in a breath, whining as he forces himself to release just a little, hole rippling around Jonny’s cock.

“There you go,” Jonny groans, sounding so proud of Patrick. “That’s perfect, just relax, just make it easier for me, baby, you’re so tight I can barely move.”

Patrick can’t help but nod frantically, wanting so badly to hear Jonny sound that proud of him all the time, so pleased with Patrick just because he’s trying so hard to let Jonny inside of him, take everything Jonny has to give. Jonny continues his slow slide into Patrick’s ass as Patrick takes big, watery breaths, shaky around the little cries that he still can’t seem to hold in. When Jonny’s finally all the way in, Patrick’s positive he could press his hand against his stomach and feel the head of Jonny’s cock, that’s how deep inside him Jonny is. His thighs are flush with Patrick’s ass, jeans scraping roughly against his skin as Jonny tilts Patrick’s head up to catch his lips in a gentle kiss that’s completely at odds with the way he’s holding Patrick down, holding him on his cock and letting Patrick’s hole adjust, rim pulled tight around Jonny’s girth.

“That’s all of it, Peeks, you’re taking all of it,” Jonny tells him, like he’s in awe of Patrick for being able to take his cock. “Hold on to me, baby, I’ve just gotta…” Jonny says, pulling back until just the flared head is holding Patrick open, then snapping his hips back in hard, startling a cry from Patrick that’s half surprise, half humiliation from the jolt of arousal that sparks through him when Jonny’s big cock gets right on that spot again, right on his prostate.

He can’t believe - Patrick isn’t supposed to think this feels good; this is supposed to be for Jonny, because Jonny made Patrick feel good, and now it’s his turn. But each snap of Jonny’s hips has Patrick’s cock filling a little more, skin thrumming with the anticipation of another orgasm like the one he’d had on Jonny’s fingers. The stretch hurts, and Patrick tries to ground himself in that sharp tug of pain, but he finds that he’s so fucked up that he even likes that, being completely filled up with Jonny’s cock.

“Jonny, Jonny,” Patrick whines, stuck on his name like a mantra, fingers clutching desperately at Jonny’s shoulders, slipping on the soft cashmere of his sweater.

“God, Peeks,” Jonny groans, catching the bend of Patrick’s knees in the crook of his elbows and pushing them up around Patrick’s shoulders as he fucks in hard. “Look at how well you’re taking it. You feel how badly your little hole wants this? How it’s trying to swallow me in even further every time I pull out? This is what you were made for, baby. That pretty little hole was made to be stuffed full with my cock, just like your pretty little mouth,” Jonny says. Patrick whines long and loud, shaking his head in denial. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth next time?”

Patrick’s breath hitches as he says, “I - I’ve never…”

“I’ll teach you how,” Jonny promises, “You’re going to love it, Patrick, feeling me so far down your throat. It’s gonna take me just as good as your hole does.”

“No, I don’t - I’m not -,” Patrick stutters, not even sure what he’s trying to say.

Jonny grasps his chin, angling Patrick’s head down and forcing him to stare at the space where Jonny’s cock is sinking into him, just like he’d done with his fingers. His cock is about half hard, resting wet and pink on his belly, and he can see Jonny’s dick disappearing into his hole on every stroke. Patrick tries to shake his head, turn away and hide his face in the pillow, but Jonny doesn’t let him. “Look at yourself, Patrick,” he says, holding just the tip inside Patrick. “I can feel you clenching down, trying to get me back inside. You’d keep me in you all the time if you could.”

Patrick can’t look away, skin flushing bright red from his forehead down to his chest. Jonny’s cock is shiny-wet every time he pulls out of Patrick’s body, and Patrick can feel how he clings to Jonny, desperate to keep him inside just like Jonny said. His cock pulses, an awful reminder that no matter how hard Patrick tries to deny it, his body wants this from Jonny, wants to take everything Jonny will give him.  

“Such a slut for my dick,” Jonny groans, bearing down over Patrick and increasing the intensity of his thrusts. “Yeah, take my cock, Peeks, you opened up so well for me, doesn’t it feel good to be good for me, baby boy?”

Patrick moans, mouth open and wet, sloppy with spit as he tongues his lower lip helplessly. “Yeah, Jonny,” he agrees, sniffling through a fresh wave of tears. “‘M trying to be good, wanna be good for you.”

“You are, Peeks, you’re so good,” Jonny agrees, winding Patrick up with these short, sharp thrusts right against his prostate that have his cock thickening up nearly the rest of the way. “Your tight little hole is driving me crazy, gonna make me spill inside you until you’re all full with my come.”

Patrick goes dizzy at the thought of that, the reminder that they didn’t use a fucking condom and the idea of walking around all day with Jonny’s come leaking out of him. He drops his hand to his dick, cupping it, just trying to get a little pressure there. When Jonny notices, his smile goes feral and bright, so pleased with the realization that Patrick’s hard again. He knocks Patrick’s hand away and grasps his cock in his own hand, stroking it in his tight, calloused palm.

“You love being fucked so much, Peeks,” Jonny tells him. “Can’t believe I’m the first one to give this to you. You gonna come for me again, baby? You gonna show me some appreciation and come on my dick?”

Patrick doesn’t even get a chance to finish heaving in a shaky breath before Jonny’s pulling out and flipping him onto his stomach, face pressed into a mound of pillows that all smell so strongly of Jonny that Patrick goes lightheaded with it. Jonny hauls Patrick’s hips up and grips his cheeks, tugging them open to bare Patrick’s gaping, wet hole. For as exposed as Patrick had felt earlier, knees up and legs spread, this is even worse: ass in the air and shoulders pressed against the bed, back arched to show off his hole just how Jonny wants it.

“I could play with you for hours here, Peeks,” Jonny tells him, hooking two fingers in Patrick’s hole and tugging it open. Patrick blushes furiously, burying his face further into the pillow. “We can do that next time, too. See how many times I can make you come before you’re begging me to stop,” he says, moving his hands so he can sink back inside. “Finger you until you’re gaping for me, eat your ass out until it’s raw.”

The angle this way is completely different, hitting Patrick’s prostate with such intensity that it almost makes him feel sick, and Jonny’s words magnify the sensation, making Patrick whine with humiliation as he thinks about what it would feel like to have his ass lifted just like this, only for Jonny’s mouth instead of his dick. “Jonny,” he pleads, “I can’t, it’s, I _can’t_ -,” he says, repeating himself from earlier, but meaning it in a totally different way. He can’t hold on much longer, can’t stand the pressure of Jonny’s cock against that fire-hot little space inside him, can’t keep from squeezing down around Jonny, trying to hold him inside.

Jonny bends over Patrick, body hot and encompassing over Patrick’s as his sweater slides against his back. When he takes Patrick’s cock in his hand again, Patrick flies out of his head, overloaded with the feeling of such acute pressure on his prostate and his dick at the same time. His hands fly to the side, twisting in Jonny’s nice sheets so hard that Patrick thinks he might rip them, open mouth leaking drool onto Jonny’s pillow.

“That’s it, get that ass up for me,” Jonny says when Patrick arches his back a little more, chasing Jonny’s cock. “So fuckin’ tight like this, you’re gonna fuckin’ milk it out of me baby, just gonna feed you my come so good. You wanna come for me so I can give it to you, Peeks?”

Patrick tries to swallow around the spit that’s gathered in his mouth. “No, it’s - fuck, it’s too soon, I just came, Jonny, I can’t do it again,” he says, even as he feels his orgasm building in the base of his stomach. “Jonny, it hurts, it’s too much, it hurts, I don’t want to -,”

But Jonny just hushes him softly, thumbing over the head of Patrick’s dick and slamming right up against his prostate, and that’s it. Patrick’s spilling onto the sheets beneath him, balls tightening up painfully as they empty. He screams with the intensity of it, ass so tight around Jonny that he’s just holding him all the way inside, clutching him like he wants to keep Jonny there, like Jonny belongs.

He’s not even through his own orgasm when he feels the vibrations of Jonny’s groan reverberating through him, and then a hot, wet rush of come filling him deep inside his ass. “Fuck, Peeks, just like I said, fucking milking it out of me,” Jonny says, grinding his hips into Patrick. Little jolts of oversensitivity echo through Patrick’s ass, but he’s too fucked out to struggled away from Jonny’s hold. “Never had someone as tight as you before, baby,” he tells Patrick, dropping a kiss to the back of his neck. It’s so unexpectedly sweet and intimate that Patrick actually tears up, hiding his face in the pillow.

When Jonny pulls out, Patrick’s hole clings to him, reluctant to let him go even though he knows he couldn’t handle anything more. He lets himself lay flat on the bed, feeling empty and untethered, like he’s never been more aware of his body but less attached to it, less in control. The only thing soothing him is the pass of Jonny’s hand over his back, rubbing gently as Patrick’s breath hitches in his throat.

“Look at you,” Jonny says, so fucking pleased with him. “You still want something inside?”

Patrick lets go of an errant sob as he nods, so ashamed with himself for needing this. Jonny slips two fingers easily into Patrick’s hole, nothing like the stretch it was before he’d had Jonny’s cock. Patrick clenches around them instinctively, relieved when the total despair from moments before starts to settle, making way for the muted little hum of pleasure he feels when Jonny rearranges them so he’s laid out on his back with Patrick on top of him, two fingers still hooked inside with his other arm splayed possessively across Patrick’s back.

“You were so good for me, Peeks,” Jonny says. “You made me feel so good. This is going to be such a good thing for you, baby,” Jonny murmurs softly to him, hand stroking lightly up and down his back. “Nobody else would know how to take care of you, but I do. I can give you everything you need. You don’t have to be ashamed of anything around me, Patrick.”

Even with as badly as Patrick wants to believe him, he’s still dark red with embarrassment over the fact that he couldn’t last two seconds without some part of Jonny in his ass, and he hides his damp face in Jonny’s neck.

“Just trust me, baby,” Jonny says, voice lulling Patrick as much as the back rub and the steadying constancy of Jonny’s fingers curled into his hole. “Don’t I always take care of you?”

Patrick feels his lips catch against the skin of Jonny’s neck when he speaks. “Yeah, Jonny,” he agrees, too tired to fight it, too tired to let the shame stop him from admitting what he needs. Maybe tomorrow he’ll feel differently, but right now he just wants to sleep. “You always take care of me.”

  


*

  


Patrick’s heavy on Jonny’s chest, drifting in and out of consciousness as Jonny holds him, hand warm against the cool skin of his back. Their room is cold, air chilled by the soft hush of the fan and the low hum of the AC that must’ve kicked on at some point. Patrick hadn’t realized, too overheated with arousal and feigned humiliation and the inescapable spillover into real humiliation to care about the temperature.

He’s damp with sweat where he and Jonny are pressed together, head tucked into the curve of Jonny’s throat and all along their chests, but his exposed back is cold, the hairs on his soft inner thighs prickling into goosebumps.

Patrick shivers, and Jonny murmurs, shifting beneath him. “You cold, sweetheart?” he asks, the vibrations of his words comforting to Patrick as they rumble through his chest.

It’s startling - the stark reminder of  how their scene started, shivering with affected fear and uncertainty beneath Jonny’s confident, calm hands, and the juxtaposition of it now as he clings to Jonny inexorably, trusting him so fiercely that the intensity of it catches in his throat.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Jonny tugs a throw blanket over him with his free hand and Patrick nuzzles into his neck.

“Was it okay, baby?” Jonny asks, so careful to check in with Patrick, just like he always is. “Was it too much?”

“Not too much, Jonny, it - it was,” Patrick stumbles over his words a little, licking his dry lips. His tongue catches against Jonny’s rough stubble when he does and it feels good, so Patrick does it again, licking the salty skin of his neck.

“Patrick,” Jonny says, gentle but firm. It’s easy for Patrick to get distracted by the visceral presence of Jonny’s body beneath his, but Jonny’s focused. “Was it what you wanted, Peeks?”

Patrick flushes. “‘S perfect, Jonny,” he says, embarrassed by how true it is. “It was - I -.” Words don’t always feel good after something like this, but that’s okay. Jonny knows what he means. He smiles a tiny, private grin down at Patrick.   

Patrick whines when Jonny’s fingers slip out of him, the emptiness an unendurable pain as his body struggles to adjust, clenching down nothing and involuntarily arching up, seeking that missing pressure.

“Shh, baby,” Jonny quiets him, pressing gentling kisses to the top of Patrick’s head, the side of his face. Patrick’s mouth opens and closes silently several times, mouthing around words he can’t vocalize. “I got you, Patrick, but I have to clean you up first, okay?”

Patrick blinks. He heaves in a shuddering breath, nodding slowly in understanding. Jonny’s right; they’re a mess, fronts all sticky with Patrick’s come. Jonny is so good at this part. He already gives Patrick more than anyone else ever would, more than he _deserves_ , and then he takes such good care of Patrick when he’s done.

“Drink some water for me, baby,” Jonny says after he’s rolled Patrick off onto his back. He tilts Patrick’s head up with a hand curled against his scalp and holds up a water glass with a bendy straw, guiding Patrick through slow, measured sips until he’s finished almost all of it. “Good,” Jonny says, brushing his mussed curls off his forehead. Patrick’s chest seizes up, all caught up in shades of Jonny, the demanding veteran captain, and Jonny, his sweet, attentive dom,  and Jonny, his perfect, perfect boyfriend, endlessly capable of being all of these people for Patrick, whenever he needs either one.

Patrick lies still while Jonny cleans his belly with a warm, damp washcloth, so soft that Patrick doesn’t mind the drag of it even against his over-sensitized skin. His come has mostly dried by now, flaking uncomfortably in the hairs on his abdomen, but Jonny takes his time, as thorough and meticulous in this as he is in everything else.

“Better?” he asks. Patrick nods hazily. “On your stomach for me,” Jonny murmurs then, easing Patrick over onto his front. When he hears the soft snick of their bedside table drawer closing, he hums in anticipation, rubbing his face against the pillow and tilting his ass up, thighs spread slightly.

The press of the plug against his hole isn’t a surprise, but Patrick still finds himself groaning and pushing into it, desperate to get it all the way inside. He still has Jonny’s come in him, and he wants to keep it there. Jonny stills him with a firm hand on the back of his neck. “Let me give it to you, Patrick,” he orders gently, and Patrick whines, going pliant in Jonny’s hold as he eases the widest part of the plug past his sore, swollen rim.

Even for a Patrick who’s used to taking Jonny’s dick, he’s taken a lot today, and he feels the stretch of it when Jonny pushes the plug all the way to the base, the little sharp suggestion of an ache deep inside himself, but it transmutes flawlessly into pleasure when Jonny traces his fingertips around the hot skin.

“There you go, that’s it, sweetheart,” Jonny says, hand brushing up and down his spine. “Look at you, Patrick. Being such a good boy for me.”

Patrick feels a shudder run through him, face burning hot with frustration at the pleasure he gets from Jonny’s praise. This is nothing like when they roleplay, Jonny’s hands careful and easy on him, so capable of reading the signs of Patrick’s body, his words all wrapped up in love, but it’s still hard for Patrick to escape that burning sensation of shame that comes with needing something this fucked up this badly.

He doesn’t realize tears are spilling out of his eyes until he turns his face out of the pillow and Jonny hums, thumbing away the salty, hot moisture from the thin skin beneath his eye.

It used to worry Jonny like crazy, when Patrick cried after scenes like this, but he’s used to it now. He knows Patrick needs it sometimes, the emotional release, and the comfort of knowing he has Jonny there to hold him until he’s done, and long after.

“Sorry, I just -,” Patrick starts, sniffling and swiping at his eyes. Jonny has never demanded an explanation from Patrick in his life, but Patrick always feels like he owes him one anyway, some sort of justification for why he is this way. Why Jonny has to spend so much time looking after him like this.

“C’mere,” Jonny says, laying down next to Patrick and rolling him on his side, spooning up behind him until Patrick’s body is tucked perfectly into the curve of Jonny’s own, comforter pulled up around his shoulders.

“I just need - sometimes I -,” Patrick tries again, tears squeezing out of his eyes and down the flushed curve of his cheeks.

“Shhh,” Jonny whispers, mouth pressed up right against Patrick’s ear. “I know, baby. I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Patrick repeats, feeling washed clean, raw inside and out.

“I love you, Patrick,” Jonny says, kissing his head, ducking to get the curve of his shoulder. Patrick can’t find the words right now, so he doesn’t respond with more than a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t need to. Jonny knows, and he knows even more every time Patrick comes to him, mumbling and embarrassed, but so, so trusting of Jonny to give him everything he needs.

Jonny grabs Patrick’s wrists in one big hand, encircling them with his fingers and holding on tight, pressing all snug up against Patrick’s belly. Patrick’s calves are caught in the tangle of Jonny’s legs, and he knows he could push against the grip Jonny has on him, but it wouldn’t do any good.

Instead, he lets his eyes drift shut, safe and warm, moored always to the constancy of Jonny’s devotion.

Jonny has him. He isn’t going anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Content Warnings** : The entire pre-negotiated, consensual roleplayed scene between Patrick and Jonny contains the appearance of dub-con sex. They do not break character for the duration of this scene. The reader is not aware until the final scene that this is a roleplay scenario that Patrick asked Jonny for. During the scene, Patrick makes several very obvious stop-signals, including "no", "I can't", and "you gotta stop", and Jonny pushes through all of these (none of these are Patrick's safeword). It is also implied within the roleplay that Pat has never been fucked before, and he makes several references to the size of Jonny's dick hurting him and not being able to take it. Patrick (within the scene) feels shame for how much he likes Jonny fucking him. All of this is part of the scene, and has been discussed off-screen by the characters. Patrick has a safeword that he can use at any time to get Jonny to immediately end the roleplay, and he never once even considers it because he is getting exactly what he wants from the roleplay. There is an aftercare scene where this is discussed following the roleplay scene. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Come find us on tumblr at [runphoebe](http://runphoebe.tumblr.com) and [kaneoodle](http://kaneoodle.tumblr.com/) if you wanna chat about the kinkier side of fic ;)


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